Life As Masque

© 2003 Ree Tjeerdsma

Published in ETERNAL PORTRAITS, 2003.

I never thought this costumery
Would weight my bones and make them break.
The paint upon my face is vile,
Its poison seeps through all I fake.

For some may falsely live; not I,
and for that sin I must survive
Within the world so full of frights —
And not just live, but even thrive.

Oh take this cup out of my hand,
And tell me that I need not go!
I promise to be good and bland
If that were all I need! — but no.

Oh, that I could be strong and weak!
Accustomed to the wills of fate.
Instead I find myself entrapped
Within the words I spoke of late.

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